


Crash

by KarieSenkow (MukatKiKaarn)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bloodplay, Catboys & Catgirls, Crush Fetish, Foot Fetish, Graphic Depiction of Bodily Processes, Macro/Micro, Mild Gore, Military Science Fiction, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Other, Science Fiction, Size Difference, Size Kink, Stranded, Survival, Violence, Vore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MukatKiKaarn/pseuds/KarieSenkow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kedi, an advance colonization scout for the Shi'Ra Interstellar Navy, crashlands on a far-flung world. As she tries to survive, she discovers that something, or somethings, are watching her...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [G-Cat](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=G-Cat).



> This story was originally written as a gift for a friend of mine on DeviantArt, G-Cat. The Shi'Ra are his original species, and we brainstormed back and forth the idea of a story about one crashing onto a planet like this. I won't go into more detail about the idea just yet, as... well, I'd want you to read the story and see what you think for yourselves. Writing a survival-type story was definitely interesting, and I think I hit on just the right feel for things.

The red glow of the chronometer in the cockpit was the only reason Kedi knew how much time had passed since the crash.

In fact, the chronometer was the only thing still running as her vision blurred back together into a coherent image. Everything else was dark, the screen built into the underside of the cockpit hood blacked out from the lack of power. The pilot's seat was dark and cramped, uncomfortably like a coffin; it took every ounce of training and control for her not to panic from claustrophobia.

Instead, she focused on herself. Her face had a cut, blood dried to her cheek; her chest felt bruised, though the harness still pressing tightly to her assured her that the injury was sustained from impacting the synthetic fibers that made up the belts, and not the hard metal and plastic of the control panel in front of her. Her ribs gave no resistance to the rise and fall of her lungs; nothing felt punctured or broken, at least in her chest.

That was good, at least.

Her shoulder throbbed in pain; this, she pushed back against her seat and let loose a sharp cry at the bone snapped back into place. The ache started to dispate almost immediately, the feeling returning to her fingers, which immediately reached up to rub her eyes back into focus.

Six hours. Well, six hours, twenty-six minutes, and thirty-one seconds. That was how much time had passed since her Scout had miscalculated her approach to this planet and fallen into its gravity well. A minute error, probably a few thousandsths of a degree, but one that quickly compounded on itself and nearly cost her, her life.

She cursed into the darkened cockpit, wiping ash blonde hair back over her head, her wrist brushing against the fur-covered exterior of her ears. When she got back, she told herself, she make sure to chew out whatever junior officer was responsible for those calculations. Violence between peers was an unthinkable taboo amongst the Shi'Ra, but a mistake of this magnitude, Kedi figured, more than justified at least a slap across the face.

Her legs shifted against their padded rests, assuring her that those limbs were still intact as well. Fingers moved over the control panel in front of her, seeking out the switches to reactivate emergency power to the spacecraft's onboard computer. Assured that the vehicle had kept her body safe from harm, she now needed to determine just how injured the spacecraft itself was.

The display flickered back to life, a branching crack in its glass housing visible as the emblem of the Shi'Ra Interstellar Navy illuminated the screen. This faded, replaced with a stream of diagnostic data; the scoutcraft's standard diagnostic routine. This time, though, much of the text flashed by in bright, attention-seizing red.

The engines were badly damaged; the airfoil surfaces used for in-atmosphere flight, mangled from the shock of impact. The radio antennas were unusable, crushed as the spaceship's internal components broke free of their housings. The structural integrity of the ship's armor was badly compromised, and the life support system struggled to maintain Oranra-standard atmosphere. Conditions outside were, at least, well within acceptable limits; with little reluctance, Kedi blew the hatch and welcomed natural light back into her world..

She hissed, hands wrenching free of her harness to shield her eyes from the brilliant light overhead. Compared to the carefully controlled temperature inside her scout, the atmosphere outside was heavy, her lungs straining to pull a breath into her lungs. Her uniform was already sticking to her skin; Kedi wasted no time unstrapping her harness and undoing the stiff coat. She quickly shrugged the jacket off, the shirt underneath still uncomfortable, though at least light enough to let her skin breathe in the muggy heat.

She rolled the hood over the cockpit aside and pulled herself out, frowning as she surveyed the damage. The computer badly understated the state of the Scout; one wing of the vehicle was torn clean off, part of it visible in the distance behind. The other was twisted by a wall of rock, dented and turned up onto itself where it collided with the stone. Kedi sighed and shook her head, lowering herself down to the ground. Solid ground felt good under her feet, after two weeks spent flying between the stars.

If this were Oranra, or any of the dozens of worlds her people had laid claim to, the crash would be nothing more than a frustrating accident. This place, however, was light-years away from the nearest colony. If the radio still worked, she might be able to catch the attention of another scout passing through this sector. There was still the distress beacon; it only reached so far, though, and depended entirely on someone flying close enough to recieve the low-power signal.

Alone, she reminded herself. She was alone.

She reached back into the cabin, pulling out the duffle bag secured under her seat. The contents-- toiletries, camping supplies, and a few days worth of rations-- were intact, at least. She sighed and hefted the load across her shoulders, seeking out the closest place to make camp. 

* * *

 

Raising a tent took longer than she thought. Of course, the last time she'd assembled one had been in a temperate climate on a world well-connected to the rest of the Shi'Ra Empire-- remote, but frequented by military craft ferrying soldiers and scouts out from the core worlds for training. Left alone in the woods, removed from one another by miles of wilderness, those expeditions were a struggle.

This, on the other hand, was torture. The humid swelter of the jungle made any physical exertion trying. Her shirt had been abandoned back at the spacecraft, leaving her in tanktop, pants and boots, her bare, muscular arms covered with sweat. Drops of the same stung at her eye; before long, Kedi struggled to find anything dry enough to wipe her face clean with.

The tent was a welcome relief once she'd finally assembled it. The walls dissipated some of the heat, allowing her to finally breathe easier. She sucked down water from the canteen in her duffle, sighing between mouthfulls of the cool liquid. She'd taken a moment to braid back her hair, gathering it together off of her neck, one more step to cool herself.

The process of winding her hair around itself reminded her of her mother drawing her hair back to braid it after bathing her. The bathroom was hardly big enough for them both to fit into, so a towel was laid out on the bed, another wrapped around her body, while her mother wove together wet strands of hair. It was one of the few aesthetic touches the Shi'Ra allowed themselves; nearly all of the rest of their clothing was entirely utilitarian in design, just as their homes were. Efficent, intended to make the best use of the materials available, with little room for ornamentation. No room left over for the personal touch.

No wonder, she realized as she finished school, so many of her kind were desperate to abandon their homeworld. When faced with the choice of cramped, crowded apartments piled on top of one another, or the chance to own land to do with as one pleased-- green, fertile land-- the preference was obvious.

She sighed, and tore the packaging off a protein bar, grimacing as sharpened teeth designed for tearing through the flesh of birds and rodents ground apart the layers of synthetically crafted nutrients layered between ground up grain. It was perfectly crafted to sustain the body; like the rest of Shi'Ra technology, it was brutally efficient.

Kedi forced the lump of food down her throat, chasing it with a mouthful of water. It was, above all else, completely unappetizing.

She rolled onto her side, and then her back, staring up at the shadows cast by the trees surrounding her tent. She'd only seen palm trees before in textbooks, photos taken by robotic rovers sent to shore from ships keeping safe distance for the still heavily irradiated land. The pictures were grainy, the residual energy bleeding off the land interfering even with the heavily shielded cameras, but it was the closest many on Oranra would come to seeing much of their homeworld.

She turned onto her side, hoping to rest through the sweltering afternoon and venture back out at dusk. She needed to find water, as well as fresh food. Beyond her desire for a more savory meal, the simple fact was that her rations would only last so long. Once the water was gone, she would have mere days to survive before dehydration and madness set in.

Her eyes started to close, weighted down by exhaustion, when a shadow racing past the wall of her tent. Her hand found the floor, shoving her upright again, her eyes tracking back and forth for the tiny shape that darted by.

_What the hell was that?_

Careful not to make a sound, she opened the flap to her tent, crawling out on hands and knees which sank into soft soil. Her heart pounded in her chest, making quick use of the nutrients her stomach was still working to extract from her rations. Something was out here, and not knowing it made her nervous.

She rose up onto her feet, stalking around the tent, her eyes sweeping the ground for traces of the hidden creatures. There would be the flash of a shadow on the fringes of her vision; by the time she turned to look, it was gone. Sweat was starting to cling to her hair, but this time it was as much from anxiety as it was from the sweltering heat.

Then she found their eyes staring down at her.

They were pinpoints of red, hidden in the shadows, high up in the trees. There was one pair, then several; soon, she realized there were dozens lurking in the branches above her. Just staring down at her.

She fell back, hands and bottom hitting the ground as her legs buckled out from under her. She was not alone here, at that frightened her more than the alternative. Whatever they were, whatever interest they might have in an alien visitor, one thing was for certain.

She was not going to sleep well that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kedi surveys the world she's landed on, and catches a would-be thief intruding on her campsite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things start to get a bit more kinky in this chapter, and they'll only get more so in the next one. Enjoy the relatively tame stuff while you can, because it will start to get more vicious and graphic from here out.

Sunrise came, blanketing the planet in its heat. Kedi turned over onto her side, the bottom of the tent wrinking, shuffling as she peeled her back from its surface. Sweat coated her face and plastered her hair to her skin; her eyes were red.

That was as much from lack of sleep as it was from the sweat trickling down around them from her brow. Finding comfort in the muggy air was next to impossible, even stripped down to her undergarments. Her stores of water couldn't be spared to cool her, and she lacked anything to stir the stagnant air pressing down on her.

Then, of course, there were the noises outside the tent.

Each time she managed to drift into unconsciousness, chattering from outside the tent jolted her out of slumber. Her ears would stand up straight as she threw open the tent flap, onto the find that the source of the noise already gone, hidden once again by the dense flora of the jungle.

Her stomach growled; Kedi willed herself to sit up and tear the wrapper off of a protein bar. Her teeth sliced through the ration, biting off as much as she could stand in one mouthful. Sleep or not, there were things to be done. Water was rapidly becoming a necessity; drinking water might hold out for a few days, but if she wanted to bathe, or cook, or do anything else, she needed to find a river, or stream, or anything else that had fresh, cool water in it.

Then there was food, she thought as she stared at the half-eaten bar in her hand. She had more than enough rations, but those weren't meant as a long-term food source. Shi'Ra were predators; each growl that rattled her body made her crave the feeling of warm meat in her belly, sweet fruits on her tongue, the satisfying sound of her teeth tearing cooked flesh from the bone. She moistened her lips, the smell of her desires wafting up into her nose.

She shook her head, and splashed a palmful of water against her face. The last thing she needed was to start imagining things, she scolded herself. She bit into what remained of her protein bar and started to wring the sweat from her clothes.

* * *

The jungle that surrounded her campsite was dense, but bright with sun filtering through palms and twisting, gnarled trees that tied themselves together in strange knots overhead. The ground itself was loose, soft; the soil wet, compacting easily under her every footstep. It was reassuring, at least; it surely meant there was water nearby that could support her.

It was eerie, though; aside from the rustle of leaves against one another as she pushed past them, the jungle was entirely silent. The sound of bugs, or birds, or any other life was entirely absent; aside from the dense plantlife that covered its surface, her crashsite seemed entirely sterile.

She shook her head. Not entirely. There were still the night creatures, she reminded herself, and herself. The only animal life for as far as she was aware.

Her walk through the jungle seemed to drag on for hours. Despite the heat, though, she pressed onwards, carefully surveying a landscape that quickly started to look the same no matter how far she went from her camp. She scored trees visibly every so often to mark her way back to her tent; at least, she assured herself, she hadn't run back into one of her markers yet.

Finally, the trees started to thin, the gaps between palm fronds letting more light down to her level. Damp soil gave way to dry stone and sand that crunched under her footsteps, sticking to the pads of her feet. Unable to help herself, Kedi gasped and ran forward, her ears already filled with a sound she'd only heard in recordings.

The ocean.

White seafoam crashed against the beach, spilling over Kedi's feet as she ran out into the water. Her toes dug down into the sand, her footing sliding out from under her, sending her tumbling onto hands and knees into the surf. It didn't matter, she thought. This was the ocean!

The seas of Oranra were poison, nearly as much so as much of its land. It was a lesson Shi'Ra children learned early on in school. Sea and river water were filtered, cleansed of the radiation lingering in the minerals and organic matter held in suspension, before being stored and recirculated through the city's water distribution network. She likely drank much of the same water her mother drank when she was a child, and so forth, back through the generations to the very creation of their species. The same water, simply filtered over and over again.

This water, this ocean, though, had never washed over Shi'Ra skin. Kedi laughed and splashed the cool water over her face, letting it soak her clothing. She knew she would regret it later, once she walked out onto dry land and her clothes felt heavy from their load. She didn't care. She was sitting in the ocean.

The ocean, she reminded herself, couldn't quench her thirst; the salty sea water would kill her as easily and perhaps as quickly as the radiation soaked waters of Oranra. Her every breath only pulled more salt-saturated air into her mouth, drying her tongue. She had no means to strip the salt from the life-giving liquid; her search would have to continue.

She sighed and rose to her feet, letting the sea lap over them as she started down the coast in search of a river delta.

* * *

There was a river, though it was late in the afternoon before she found it. The water turned the sandy beach into shallow marshland; she followed upstream, back into the jungle, wading through the water with her pant legs rolled until she was ankle-deep in the stream. Her body ached at the crisp scent of fresh water rolling past her; it took every ounce of willpower to resist the urge to simply plunge her face into the water and drink until her stomach was full. Memories of her training commander's horror stories about sickness from exposure to alien microbes was more than enough to silence her belly for the moment.

If there were microbes in the water, she thought to herself.

She paused, hand thrust into a pocket in search of the purifying tablets she'd brought to make any water she collected potable. There was no animal life on this planet; the dense plantlife that made up the jungle was the only sign of life she'd encountered so far. There were no insects biting her skin, no birds drifting through the air, no animals crawling across the ground or among the trees, no fish swimming by her feet in the river. There was no life, no sound except for the sway of trees against one another in a light wind. Everything was eerily, unnervingly still.

Including, she reminded herself, the eyes that watched her in the night.

It didn't make sense, she told herself, sitting down on the soft soil of the riverbank. The world was strangely, selectively sterile. What could organisims like the creatures that watched her live on? There was nothing to hunt; it didn't even seem like there was enough fruit on the plants around her to serve as a food source.

There was just herself, and the creatures. A form of life with no conceiveably source or sustinance; complex animals did not simply spring up from the ground like flowers. Yet, there was nothing else on the planet. She frowned and stuffed the purification tablets back into her pocket. What could she need them for, on this world?

She dipped her hands cautiously into the flowing waters, carrying a drink of the riverwater to her lips. She closed her eyes, steeling herself, before pouring the contents into her mouth. It was crisp, cool, liquid relief as the water rolled along the surface of her tongue and spilled down her throat into the core of her body. The taste was clean as melted snow, pleasant as the last drops spilled into her belly.

Her head hurt as she struggled with the question of what she shared this world with; for the moment, at least, she set the matter aside and dipped an empty canteen into the river water. It was growing late; she could see bands of orange and yellow light on the horizon through gaps in the trees. It'd be night soon, and she needed to make her way back through the woods to her camp before she lost her bearings. The water could wait for the morning, when she could relocate to its bank and make herself more comfortable.

Kedi rose to her feet, a renewed sense of determination filling her just as surely as the water in her stomach did. This was still a struggle, she reminded herself, but at least now it felt like one she could handle.

* * *

She returned to find the camp ransacked.

Kedi fell to her knees as she reached the clearing she'd set her tent and supplies up within. Her shelter lay in a pile of cloth and metal bones; boxes of supplies recovered from her Scout were overturned, their contents strewn across the ground. Water bottles lay empty, dripping what remained of their precious contents into the soil. The empty wrappers of food rations blew across the jungle floor in the breeze.

Her fingers dug into the soil, back muscles tensing as she surveyed the wrecked campsite. There was only one explanation, because there was only one other form of life on the entire planet beside herself. The red-eyed creatures had been here, had torn through belongings while she spent the day crawling through the jungle, leaving nothing of worth behind.

It took several moments to get back to her feet, to control her shaking body enough to stand. She went through the trunks one by one, handling each item that remained inside. The food and water were gone, either ruined or taken altogether. Clothing was shredded, ribbons and squares of fabric cut away roughly from shirts and pants. One by one, each box only repeated what she'd already found.

The last one, the one closest to her tent, was moving. The lid had fallen shut, sealing inside whatever had attacked her camp.

Kedi approached it cautiously, hand patting for the knife she carried in a pants pocket. With a deep breath, she threw open the lid, leaning over the container to stare down at the invader inside.

The red-eyed creatures were tiny; the one inside the box pressed its back against the corner of the container, pointing its beady red eyes up at her. Twin, whiplike tails curled in a spiral between its legs; a slender body covered in short, gray-brown fur similar in color to the jungle soil shook, its tiny arms bent as it tried to cover its face.

Kedi laughed and closed her hand tight against the intruder; the creature screeched in fright as it was pulled out of the box. This was what dared to invade her space?

As wiry as it was, the creature seemed so fragile; its bones weren't much thicker than toothpicks. She could surely snap the little monster in half simply by clenching her fist, reducing its organs to a mangled mess of viscera.

Her stomach growled, a violent rumble that shook through her bones. No, she thought; she had a better use for her intruder.

Without hesitation, without second thought, she brought the red-eyed creature to her mouth, sticking his head in past her lips. It skin smelled of soil and herbs, of something that worked the land day and night. Her tongue stroked over its face, curled around its head; the little beast squirmed in her grip as it struggled to pull its head free. The corners of her mouth curled up in a smile, and her lips pressed in tighter as her tongue slid beneath him.

It realized where this was going, and tried to pull back, fall out of her hands; her palm pressed insistantly back and and shoved the top half of the creature's body into her mouth. Her tongue washed over it, feeling out its shape. The creature tasted hot, dry; she didn't care. Her teeth, sharp like razors' edges, scraped over his back; the slightest trickle of blood beaded against her taste buds, sending an electric shiver through her spine.

She shoved the rest of him inside, stuffing the cavity of her maw with the little, writhing being. Its pulse beat against her tongue and down her throat. Something twisted, tensed, deep inside her; her thighs pressed together, trembling legs dropping her to her knees as her tongue pressed upwards, crushing the creature's back against her hard palette. That's right, she told herself, squirm. Squirm and panic, little thief. You got caught. And now, you're my prey.

Prey. The word resonated within her. This was what she was meant to be. A hunter, a master of the world around her. Flesh and bone finely tuned to kill and consume, to thrive in the wilderness. She smiled, her breathing quickening. She was a predator, and she felt alive.

Her head snapped back, tongue shoving the creature back, back towards her throat and into a tight embrace it would know no escape from. It took a moment to swallow; it was more than she'd ever eaten at once and its attempts to escape, to break free of her, did little to help. Soon, though, her captive slipped down her throat. Within moments, she could feel it drop into her stomach, heavy and warm and satisfying.

She gasped, hands laying against her belly. She felt sated; she felt good. Something was stirred up in her now, though, something clawed at the edges of her consciousness. She knew there was only one thing to do, that she must do.

She needed to find the others.


End file.
